A Rude Awakening
by Chushingura
Summary: It's the end of the world as we know it. OC/Daryl. AU.
1. Agony in the Garden

This pot bunny has been hopping around my head for days... hope you enjoy. I don't own the Walking Dead universe or anything you recognize. I'm not making any money off of this. Please don't sue me.

* * *

All the channels on tv had started broadcasting an emergency message telling everyone to stay calm and in their houses. That was a month ago. She and her father obeyed it. They boarded up their doors and windows and only left the house when necessary, and even then they had stayed close while they were hunting and tending to the garden. Their power had shut off the fifth day of curfew. The radio had stopped broadcasting two weeks ago and the emergency channel was playing the same warnings on repeat: "Do not leave your house. If you see an infected person, do not approach them. If you are infected, report to your nearest medical checkpoint. Do not panic. There are refugee camps in the following cities…" Neither of them knew what was happening in the city, or anywhere else after that.

Miriam and her father had considered themselves lucky. The nearest neighbors were five miles down the road and they were a half hour's drive away from the infected cities. They had only seen the infected on the news, although her father wanted her to learn how to defend herself from them just in case.

She had learned how to shoot straight when she was ten years old and picked up throwing knives soon after. They learned how to kill the infected and how to stay safe. She thought they were protected from the infection. She thought they could wait it out until the CDC had a cure they were promising they were working on. They didn't have to worry about food because of her vegetable garden and twelve acres of hunting land. None of the infected had ever come near their house before, either. _Oh Lord, keep us safe._

* * *

Miriam woke up to the sound of loud banging and shuffling downstairs. She groaned and rolled toward the window seeking the sun on her face before realizing it was still pitch black outside. And her door was closed. She had gone to sleep with it open to let the breeze through. A chill ran up her spine as she heard a floorboard creak downstairs.

She dashed out of her bed and peered out her window. _My God._ Her mind froze as it took in the sight. Below her there were over 100 infected in the driveway, in her garden patch to the side of the house, near the old barn. They were surrounded.

She felt the panic in her stomach, burning like bile rising into her throat. Her breathing quickened and she her limbs felt like lead. She swallowed it down and stopped those thoughts in their tracks. There would be time for panic later. She ran to her father's room. Empty. She had no time to worry. She needed to get out of there now.

She began to pray the rosary to occupy and calm her mind as she grabbed the backpack she used for camping. _I believe in God, the Father, Creator of Heaven and Earth_. She packed the hunting knives she had been sharpening the night before, a few spare pairs of underwear and sturdy changes of clothing, flashlights, and a blanket from her bed_._ _A__nd in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord. _She slipped into a pair of jeans and ran to the bathroom. _Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried_. She packed everything from the medicine cabinet, bandages, and a bottle of shampoo_. He descended into hell; the third day He arose again from the dead._

She needed to get downstairs to the kitchen and the guns. _He ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. _She put on her hiking boots, grabbed her backpack and armed herself with a tomahawk. _I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. Amen._

She took a breath and stepped down the first stair, both hands braced on the weapon. _Our Father; Who art in Heaven; Hallowed be Thy name. _Remember what Papa told you. You must aim for their brain. That is the only way to stop them. _Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done; On Earth as it is in Heaven. _They are attracted to noise. You must be quiet. _Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. _You must only use your gun as a last resort. And above all, do not let them bite or scratch you. _And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. Amen. _

The stairs leading to the kitchen were dark. _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. _She could hear one near by. It was in the kitchen, near the table_. __Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. _She crept down the stairs silently, her hunting instincts taking over and silencing the fear. She would kill it. She glanced around the corner and saw one of the infected.

It was feeding on one of the barn cats. She took a breath and said the Hail Mary twice more. _Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. _She was overcome with revulsion, however anger clouded over everything. She left her hiding spot and planted her axe in its head without hesitation. _As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen._

It fell to the floor with a dull thud, dropping the bloody remains of the cat. And suddenly she wasn't scared anymore. She could hear about four other infected in the living room. She shut the kitchen door and packed as much rice and water as she could carry, a cooking pot, and lighter. The gun safe was in her father's den off the living room. That was probably where he was.

She opened the door silently and crept to where she could hear the other infected. What she saw made her head grow light and her heart froze. Fear flooded through her body once more. They were hovering over a person's body, feeding on it. She recognized the plaid cotton pants that were attached to the bloody mess. They belonged to her father.

Without thinking, her anger carried her as she thundered over to the creatures and beheaded one. In their feeding frenzy, the other three didn't even notice. She proceeded to kill the next them as well, burying her axe in their head one by one. Afterward she bent over beside the body that had belonged to her father. _The first sorrowful mystery… The Agony in the Garden…_

She placed her hands on his throat and felt for a pulse. _Our Father; Who art in Heaven; Hallowed be Thy name. _There was none. _Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done; On Earth as it is in Heaven. _Her father was gone. She had to run. She couldn't stay near a body after it had been bitten. _Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. _He must have woken up and gone for the guns without waking her up. She closed his eyes, tears falling from her own, and straightened up. _And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. Amen._

She packed three guns and as much powder and shells as she had room for before sneaking out the back door. The infected were shuffling around the driveway. Some had made their way to the porch. There were at least fifty of them between her and the truck and she didn't have a chance of getting to it without attracting more. She would have to run toward the forest, then. A few glanced over when she opened the door and started advancing on her. With the Hail Mary's running through her mind, she sprinted from the door to the fence surrounding the grazing field.

Her feet beat against the ground, air burned in her lungs, her thudded wildly against her chest, and the images in her head fueled her to put distance between them. She scaled the fence and continued running full force toward the forest.

The infected were stuck behind the fence, unable to climb it. She continued to run through the forest until the pain in her sides forced her to stop. She slowed to a walk. Her ears and eyes were still alert and looking for any sign of them. Her feet crunched against the forest floor and she allowed the sound to calm her. After a few hours, the sky lightened. Her head was swimming and her eyelids drooped.

She clambered up a tree and leaned against the trunk and finally allowed grief to overtake her in shuddering sobs. The grotesque images of the bodies of her father and cat and the dreadful creatures eating them were imbedded in the forefront of her mind and, just as they had fueled her escape, they now fueled her anguish.

Eventually she drifted to sleep, although it provided her no reprieve. Her dreams were haunting and vivid. She woke up several times in the uncomfortable position and foreign surroundings before crying herself back into slumber. Her mind kept replaying the horrors over again.

Blood.

Death.

Killing.

Running.

More blood.

More death.

More killing.

More running.


	2. As the Deer Pants for the Water

Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Miriam's hair was greasy, her throat was dry, and her head was pounding. She had run out of water two days ago and desperately needed to find a water source. She had come so far, though. She was determined she would not die of dehydration. Not after escaping her house and narrowly avoiding death a few times during her journey. With this encouragement, she took a deep breath and climbed down the tree she had been sleeping in.

She had lost track of how many days it had been since she had a proper shower, slept in her bed, or made dinner for her father. She had watched the moon cycle three times, though, and she estimated it to be mid August. She was moving south toward the Centre for Disease Control headquarters in Atlanta. Before the radio had gone off they had said it was a safe zone. The air had grown hotter and heavier as she travelled further into the deep south. At least she didn't have to worry about freezing at night, however dehydration was fast becoming a concern.

Being constantly alert and on the move in this weather was taking its toll on her. Her footsteps were wearier, her nightmares were constant, and the ache in her bones caused by sleeping in uncomfortable positions in trees and the vigorous daily exercise was relentless. She never stayed in one place for more than a few days to rest for fear that the infected would be able to track and find her. She didn't know how accurate their sense of smell was, but she wasn't about to take risks.

Her upbringing and caution had kept her alive so far. Hunting hares and, when desperate, squirrels, and supplementing it with the rice she had brought had kept her stomach full enough. A few times she had gotten lucky and stumbled across a berry bush and some wild onions as well. Her supplies were dwindling, however. She would need to get to Atlanta soon.

She could not be too far, though, Miriam thought. She had gotten detoured a few times by herds of the walking dead and big cities, which she gave a wide berth because her father had told her that the densely populated areas would be the most dangerous. This had added a few weeks to her journey, however she knew she had to be getting close as the climate had changed from the mountainside of Pennsylvania to the hot, humid climate of the southern states in the summer. She had passed the South Carolina border a few days ago.

As she jumped to the ground, her hunting instincts took over and one hand immediately grasped her throwing knives on her belt. She surveyed the area, listening for anything out of the ordinary and scanning the wildlife around her. When she was satisfied the area was safe, she adjusted her backpack and began travelling southbound. She would stop in a few hours to rest and hopefully find a water source on the way.

Even though the cut-off shorts and thin, cotton tank top barely covered her bottom, Miriam felt herself beginning to get uncomfortably warm as the air in her lungs grew heavier as the temperature rose and the sun crept higher in the sky. It would be another long, hot day.

She had kept her mind occupied by recounting old Bible lessons during the journey. She regretted not bringing her prayer books with her, however, logically, she knew it would weigh her down. Today she recalling the story in Exodus in which Moses stumbled upon the burning bush and God ordered him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. She was so distracted by considering God's identification of Himself as "I am who I am" she almost missed the faint sound of trickling water.

She paused, her eyes widening… when her ears confirmed the presence of running water, she immediately threw caution in the wind and took off in the direction it was coming from.

"Praise God," she breathed as she stumbled through the bushes. In front of her was a small, trickling stream. There were mossy rocks nestled against the gravelly bank and a small thicket surrounded it on both sides.

It must be a sign from God; just as He led Moses to the burning bush, He also led her to the water she needed. She kneeled beside the small bank and scooped the water into her mouth and splashed her face. Once her thirst was quenched, she stripped out of her clothes and retrieved the other dirtied clothes from her bag and began to scrub them against the rocks. Once she was satisfied that the dirt and sweat was rinsed out of them, she hung them on the bushes and began bathing herself as thoroughly as the small stream would allow.

It was only about a foot across and half a foot deep, but she had no complaints. It was clean and cool. After so long without it, running water felt like a gift from God. She scrubbed her scalp and her long, brown hair and continued to wash the rest of her once more. It was heavenly. The cool water left its soft kisses on her over-heated, sticky skin, leaving it refreshed and tingling. Inspired by this small gift, she began to hum an old hymn to herself as she lay as much of her body in the water as possible.

"_As the deer panteth for the water, so my soul longeth after You…"_

She splashed her toes through the water and propped herself up on her elbows so she could admire the scenery around her. There were some wild flowers growing in the grass a few feet away. Perhaps she would pick some later and use their fragrance to cover up the smell of her sweat.

"_You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship you…"_

She really hoped the refugee shelter in Atlanta had spare clothes. This bra was looking pretty ragged.

"_You alone are my strength, my shield, to You alone may my spirit yield…"_

When she was fully cooled off, she dragged herself out of the sweet water and checked on her clothes. The sun had done a pretty good job of drying them, although the denim of her shorts was still damp. She dressed herself in the tank top once more, leaving the shorts to dry a while longer. Her stomach rumbled and she realized it was almost time to eat, thankful she would finally have water with her meal.

She wandered over to the wild flowers and picked a few. After checking them for bugs, she rubbed the petals against her under arms and neck, relishing the sweet scent it left. She picked a few extra to keep in her bag to sweeten the smell of it as well. It might have value other than her vanity, as well. Perhaps it will mask her scent and protect her from the infected.

As soon as the thought was in her head, Miriam heard a twig behind her snap. Instinctively, she turned around to see what had caused it.

There were three of them.

Three walkers.

They were emerging from the trees, only a few meters away from her. Once they caught sight of her, they bared their teeth and started running. It wasn't running, though. It was more like a shuffling. Like they barely knew how to use their limbs. There were two males and a female. Their clothes were in tatters and parts of their flesh were festering.

Her shock planted her in place. Her eyes widened and her stomach dropped as their sour smell reached her nostrils, chasing away the sweetness of the flowers.

This abrupt change rushed back to her senses and she reached down for her knives she kept on her belt before realizing it wasn't there. She began backing away now as they drew closer, before swiftly turning and darting toward her pack and weapons. One of the females grabbed her arm as she turned, jolting her and causing her to fall into the stream again, however breaking the grip it had on her.

She panicked and did the only thing she could. She splashed water at them, blindsiding them, and quickly hauled herself out of the water and emerged on the opposite bank.

They were not distracted long, however it gave her the chance to get to her knives. She threw the three of them, hitting the target's square between the eyes. Dark blood oozed from the wound and the walkers dropped to the ground.

She hastily redressed and gathered the clothes she had left drying on the bush. She did not waste time refilling the bottles. She had to get out of there. There could be more nearby. She retrieved her knives from their heads and wiped the blood from them on the grass and ran back in the direction she had come from. She remembered seeing a few tall trees nearby. She would stay there for a few days in the safety of the branches. She wouldn't risk encountering another herd on the ground.

Her stomach rumbled again, this time accompanied by a wave of nausea, however she didn't slow down. Her hand tightened on the knives in her hand. She just needed to find a tall enough tree to climb and she would eat some of the hare she had left in her bag.

Upon finding a suitable tree with wide enough branches that were a few meters up, Miriam began to scale it. Half way up her head began to spin and another wave of nausea passed. She clung to the tree, taking deep breaths and willing it to pass.

"Oh no, please no", she whispered. Please don't let me be sick, Lord, she silently prayed. Her vomit would surely attract more of them.

She continued climbing, ignoring the growing feeling of unease in her stomach. As soon as she reached the branch, she secured her bag to it and leaned against it, considering her predicament.

_The water. _

It was so stupid of her not to sanitize it…. she had been so excited by the sight of it that all reason had left her. And now look where she had gotten herself – up a tree, possibly with a herd of infected dead nearby, and she may have just given herself typhoid fever. Great going, Miriam.

She allowed the nausea to pass over her in waves, praying she wouldn't be sick. She was in no position to fight any walkers off right now. Eventually, after she was satisfied with the amount of self-loathing she felt, she allowed herself to drift to sleep in the uncomfortable position.

She woke up to the sound of rustling. Judging by the sun's position, she had bee asleep for a few hours. Her hand instinctively reached for the knives on her belt, even though she was safe in the tree. She surveyed the area, trying to find the source of the source of the sound when a figure emerged, stumbling from the bushes. She silently removed a knife, preparing to strike when she realized that it wasn't a walker.

It was a man; a tall, sandy haired man wearing a wife beater and jeans with a few days worth of scruff on his face. He was clutching a crossbow that looked like it was about half the size of her. He surveyed the small clearing, clearly looking for something, when she realized he had come from the direction of the stream. He must have seen the dead and realized there was someone else nearby.

She held her breath, unsure if she should make him aware of her presence or not. He was the first healthy person she had seen in months, however he looked rough. If she had met him in a dark alley, she would have run the other direction.

He reached up to scratch his jaw and crouched down to examine the ground.

Well, he knew how to track, anyways.

He felt at the soft soil with one hand, the other rested on his thigh and she saw him start picking at the skin around his thumb out of habit. It was such a simple thing, however the impact hit her like a freight train. It was a habit her father had. She had avoided thinking about him for so long, however this small gesture had her drowning in the sudden wave of memories.

He straightened up and continued walking northbound. As soon as he was out of her sight, she let go of the breath she was holding and collapsed against the tree again. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
